The phrase "a palace of memory" is correct and usable in written English.
It can be used to describe a place or state of mind where memories are stored or recalled, often in a metaphorical sense.
Example: "As I walked through the old house, it felt like a palace of memory, each room filled with echoes of my childhood."
Alternatives: "a reservoir of memories" or "a fortress of recollection".
But the film is also a palace of memory.
Dr. Steve Zeitlin, one of the the show's curators, noted that the outpouring of memorial art -- at firehouses and in parks, atop cars, outside restaurants, in apartment windows and even on garbage can lids -- transformed the city "into a palace of memory, where the magnitude of the expression attempted to match the magnitude of the loss".
Before we part, I read out a quotation to him, a sentence that seems to sum up the vast endeavour he is still engaged in: 'I believe above all that I am wanting to build a palace of my memory.' He looks momentarily startled.
Einstein called Tower House a "palace of science".
George Johnson is an editor of The Week in Review of The New York Times and the author of "In the Palaces of Memory: How We Build the Worlds Inside Our Heads," which will be published in February.
This particular importance of memory in respect of artworks is signalled by the anthologists' choice of Frank Kermode's fascinating essay "Palaces of Memory" (which first appeared in Index on Censorship) to open the book.
Lifting off from St Augustine's philosophical inquiry into memory ("I come to the fields and vast palaces of memory, where are treasuries of all kinds of objects"), Kermode investigates those "deep, vertiginous mnemonic plunges" through the sequencing of which people make sense of their lives.
Last year, as well, a book of "Memory Palace" stories, translated into Portuguese, was published in Brazil.
A home is a kind of memory palace and there is an existential cruelty in the razing of it.
But in Ricci's view, it seems, this enfolding map, too, is a kind of memory palace, reminding its viewers of a real world in which everything is being put in its proper place, a world in which a Chinese emperor and a Jesuit priest might find common ground in a shared embrace of knowledge and faith.
The 4,000 square feet of Valerie's headquarters are not only an engine taking in 4,000 eggs and 250 pounds of butter a week, 250 pounds of chocolate and 600 flower petals a day, and turning out confections — it's also a kind of memory palace.
